You know how God looks after all of us even though sometimes we don't understand his mysterious ways? Well, in making sure Scotland didn't qualify for the Euros, I think the Lord our God might have done us Scots a bit of a good turn.
I am informed reliably or perhaps not, that this collection of cat wailings actually constitutes the official anthem for the Euros being jointly hosted by Transylvania and fuckin' Zombieland by the looks of this lot.
Never has the expression, "I don't fancy yours much", been pregnant with so much meaning. Put your stake, hammer and crosses together, ladees and gennlemen, and give up life itself for the vocal stylings of The Eight Tractors...